“You think?” I asked. She’d never said that to me. I supposed we had never discussed his motivations; we’d always kept to cold, hard facts.
“Yeah, he doesn’t want to sell to someone who’s going to render useless what he’s done with Verity—though the irony of that doesn’t escape me. He doesn’t want to look foolish more than he wants to turn a profit. What I proposed to him today was maintaining his strategies but adding a subscription model—new for this publication, but not in publishing. It’s a different approach from burning Verity to the ground like some people plan to do,” she said, throwing an accusing glance in my direction.
I glanced at Tristan and he met my eye. I could tell he was thinking exactly the same thing I was.
Yeah, she was a big fucking deal.
Twenty-Eight
Andrew
Drinks with Tristan had been fine. Good, even. Yes, I knew I’d go back to London and face a subtle inquisition from the rest of the guys, but it was good to see Sofia in a social situation. She was relaxed and charming and so fucking sexy I couldn’t wait to get her back to the hotel.
At some point from leaving Tristan to reaching the hotel, something had shifted. Sofia had grown quiet. She was upset.
And I didn’t know why.
The lift doors opened on the fifty-third floor and I stepped out after her.
“Now that we’re alone, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked.
“Who said anything was wrong?”
I pulled my key card out of my wallet, ignoring her. She didn’t have to tell me what was the matter, but there was no point pretending everything was fine.
“Are you coming inside?” I asked, holding open the door to the suite.
“It depends,” she said, folding her arms and leaning on the door. What the fuck had crawled up her arse when we left Tristan? I wish she’d just spit it out.
I met her gaze and waited.
And waited.
“I have questions,” she said finally. “Questions for you. Things I don’t understand.”
“Okay,” I said carefully. I suddenly felt I was surrounded by landmines, and only complete stillness could keep me from being blown to bits. I hated the coldness in Sofia’s voice and the look in her eye that suggested we were . . . strangers.
“You’ll answer them?”
She knew me better than to think I’d commit to answer questions before I knew the exact nature of the information requested. “Can we do this inside? I want to change and enjoy the view rather than skulk around in hotel corridors.”
“On one condition. No one’s getting naked until I’ve had my questions answered. And maybe not even then, because I might choose to go watch Netflix in bed by myself.”
I sighed. Where had this evening gone so wrong? What had soured her mood? “Fine.”
“Fine,” she said, and slipped past me into the suite.
I toed off my shoes, grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the bar, and handed one to her before taking a seat opposite the New York skyline. I was ready for her questions.
Ridiculously, she sat in one of the occasional chairs opposite me, as if this was an interview.
“What is it you do in your office from six to twelve?” she asked.
Okay, I’d braced myself for questions about Goode, about how much money I made, about how many women I’d slept with or was sleeping with, but my morning office routine hadn’t even been on my thousand-mile radar. “Sun salutations, according to you. What do you think I do?”
She shook her head and stood. “I’m leaving if you’re not going to take this seriously.”
I caught her hand as she walked past and yanked her down onto the sofa next to me. “What the fuck, Sofia? You’re throwing your toys out of your pram because I’ve not told you why I don’t like to be disturbed until midday? What’s going on?”
She shrugged, but at least she stayed seated. “Natalie just pointed out that—”
“Ohhh, right. Natalie. I think she hated me most out of all my assistants. So tell me, why exactly does Natalie think I don’t want to be disturbed before twelve?”
“I asked first.”
I shifted around and put my hands on her shoulders so she was facing me. “I want to focus. I want to think. And I want to do that without interruption.”
Sofia scoffed. “For six hours every day? Oh, that makes perfect sense.”
I let go of her. “If you think me a liar, that’s your business, not my problem.”
“You’re telling me you’re in there . . . actually meditating? My guess was closer than I realized.”
“Partly—though I assure you, there’s nothing tantric about my morning routine. Meditation normally only takes twenty minutes right at the beginning of the day. Then I work out my priorities, reassess strategic goals, and go to work. In case you haven’t noticed, as soon as midday rolls around, I’m back-to-back meetings, phone calls, and interruptions. If I didn’t draw that line in the sand, I’d have no time to do anything of value.”
“So you’re just working?” she asked, with an expression of frank disbelief.
“Yes. What else would I be doing? What did Natalie suspect? Forget it, don’t answer that, I don’t even care.”
“You’re spending six hours meditating and working . . .” It wasn’t a question—more like she’d found the solution to a puzzle and was repeating it out loud.
“Next question.”
“Why do they call you James at the bar?”
I collapsed back onto the sofa. That one was a little more complicated.
“And I noticed you always pay cash.”
“Yeah. That’s deliberate. I don’t want them to know my real name.”
“Why not?”
“For lots of reasons.”
“Hit me with your top five.”
She wasn’t going to let this go. And in her shoes, I’d admit, it looked a little weird.
“First, privacy.”
“Come on. Yes, you’ve been in the financial pages, but you’re not Harry Styles.”
I chuckled. “I know. I don’t mean that kind of privacy. I’ve run into situations before that staff have Googled my name on my card and figured out who I am and . . . I’ve made a lot of enemies doing what I do.”
She put up her hand to stop me. “Whoa, there, buddy. You’re saying that bar staff Google your name off your card? What kind of—” She stopped herself. “Oh, right. Women. Female bartenders.”
I stayed silent. She’d figured it out, as I knew she would.
“And what do you mean, you’ve made enemies? You’re not a child molester.”
“No, but I’ve taken over companies and had to make a lot of very hard decisions.”
“To save businesses.”
“Not everyone sees it like you. And that’s not surprising. I’ve had to fire people, make people redundant, shut down divisions and product lines. This impacts real people. It’s not just a line item on a spreadsheet. It takes away the ability for men and women to provide for their families. It’s never going to be a popular thing to do, no matter the reasons behind it.”